


Feel Safe at Night

by Findswoman



Series: The Lasan Series [15]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Fade to Black, Fluff and Mush, Honeymoon, Implied Sexual Content, Lasan, Lasat, Pre-Siege of Lasan, Pre-Star Wars: Rebels, Romance, Some Humor, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Findswoman/pseuds/Findswoman
Summary: A wedding night scene for Zeb and Shulma, with a touch of humor.
Relationships: Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios/Original Character(s)
Series: The Lasan Series [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/967674
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written just because I wanted to try my hand at a wedding night scene for these two (and it is pretty much my first ever attempt at writing such a scene). Later coopted for JCF's [Monday Mush Mania challenge #3](https://boards.theforce.net/posts/55514387), because the prompt (romantic vacation) fit. May eventually become part of a longer story about Zeb and Shulma’s wedding and honeymoon.

Gleaming moonlight bathed the forested cliffs surrounding the mountain retreat of Moonflower Springs. In the bridal suite overlooking the steaming, waterfall-fed pools that gave the place its name, a High Honor Guard dress uniform hung in the closet beside a flowing, draped gown of gold and red. Atop the dresser lay a variety of jeweled necklaces, earrings, anklets, and hair ornaments, among them a shamanic ring-medallion; nearby, on a footstool, lay several pieces of finely polished ceremonial armor. A large, inviting bed dominated the room, made up with sheets of red-purple satyn and strewn with colorful flowers.  
  
And lounging on that bed, in a dark purple velvoid dressing gown with the light gray of a standard-issue Honor Guard microshirt peeking through, was Zeb, sipping Hoth chocolate from a large purple mug bearing the words HELLO HONORABLE in big gold letters—and waiting.  
  
Waiting for Shulma, of course. She had now spent several minutes in the curtained dressing alcove at the far corner of the suite, “getting ready”—or so she said. Zeb was becoming impatient. Why the ever-living Bogan was it taking her so long? Was this one of those _female_ things? Why did she even need to “get ready” for this, anyway? _Karabast, I’ve_ been _ready,_ he thought to himself. _For years, now..._  
  
He took a deep breath and another sip of chocolate. Then he heard her voice from behind the curtain:  
  
“Oh no… _ai karabast’aka,_ no...”  
  
“Shulma, what’s goin’ on?” he called over. “Aren’tcha ready yet?”  
  
“Well…”  
  
Zeb put down his mug and went over to the curtained alcove. “Well, what? Everything all right?”  
  
“Yes, everything’s fine, Zeblove… it’s just…” He heard her sigh. “You know how Yhazi packed that… that _bag_ for me?”  
  
“What, the one with the pink pittins all over it?”  
  
“Yes, that one.”  
  
“With all the hairpins an’ headache pills an’ funny little... bottles an’ tubes o’ stuff?” Zeb grimaced slightly.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Well, what about it?”  
  
“Well, she said she was going to throw in, er, something special for me to, um, wear for you tonight, and...”  
  
“And?”  
  
“And it’s… oh, Zeblove, I’m not even sure I want to come _out_ in this…”  
  
“Then come out _not_ in it! Heh, heh!”  
  
“Dearest, please…”  
  
“C’mon, now, darlin’, what’s wrong with it? Funny color? Too much lace an’ ruffles? Too skimpy? Nothin’ wrong with skimpy…”  
  
“No, no, it’s not that… it’s just… oh, I wish I hadn’t put my own nightgown in the other suitcase down in the speeder—”  
  
“Aw, just come on out, won’t ya?” Zeb grumbled, crossing his arms querulously. “I’ve been waitin’ long enough out here.”  
  
Shulma sighed again. “All right, fine... but you’ve been warned.”  
  
The curtains parted and Shulma stepped out of the dressing alcove. Her long purple-black hair fell loose over her shoulders, and most of her figure was concealed by an oversized, knee-length white nightshirt that read:

Feel Safe  
at Night  
SLEEP WITH  
AN HONOR GUARD

At first Zeb’s eyes and mouth gaped in astonishment. Then he erupted in raucous laughter that lasted several moments. “AW KARABAST! ’S ABSOLUTELY PRICELESS! LOVE IT!” he roared at last, slapping his knee.  
  
“Zeblove…”  
  
“An’ it’s true, y’know, heh heh!” He slid his arm around her and pulled her close. “Because this Honor Guard’s ready to sleep with ya… hey, what’s wrong?” he added as he saw her sigh and lower her eyes.  
  
“Oh, I don’t know… I mean... I guess I’d just hoped to be more... beautiful and alluring for my Zeblove on our first night. And instead I look like… _this._ ” She looked down resignedly at the baggy nightshirt, then sighed and hid her face in his shoulder. “Oh love, I’m sorry...”  
  
“Don’t feel bad, darlin’. Y’know, like I said...” He leaned down and spoke in her ear. “...it doesn’t have to stay _on_ ya, heh heh.”  
  
Shulma slapped her husband on the upper arm. “You are a tease, ai Garazeb.”  
  
“Who, me? I wasn’t teasin’ at all.” He said it with a chuckle and with one hand starting to push the nightshirt upward at the hem. But Shulma sighed again, her eyes remaining wistfully downturned.  
  
“Aw, c’mon, darlin’, cheer up. It’s our night, y’know. Here, er… um… try this.” He took off his robe and draped it over her shoulders instead, watching her as she wrapped it around herself, felt its softness against her, inhaled the manly scent that clung to it. “There you go. Now you look like a queen.” He nuzzled the edge of her ear. “My queen.” He kissed the stripes at the edge of her face. “My _beautiful, alluring queen._ ” Each word was a kiss on her neck as he coaxed her over to the bed and sat down with her, his hand stroking her waist. “Now how ’bout my _beautiful, alluring queen_ comes to bed so her Honor Guard can _keep her safe_ all night long… AH HA HA ha ha ha… aw, karabast…” He burst out laughing again but quickly quelled it. “Sorry, darlin’, sorry. But really, won’tcha? Please?”  
  
“Of course I shall… dearest...”  
  
She trailed off, her eyes widening at what she noticed beside her. Zeb felt warmth fill his face. He had forgotten that he had been wearing nothing under the robe except his standard-issue microshirt and shorts—austere light gray, each stamped with the seal of the Honor Guard in a lower corner. And rather form-fitting, too, outlining all his muscular, _masculine_ features...  
  
“Aw, karabast, heh heh… y’see, I’m—I’m not wearing anything special either, darlin’... just, er, standard-issue Guard stuff… guess my, er, sleep pants got left in the other suitcase too, heh… er… ”  
  
Zeb trailed off as he felt Shulma’s hand glide across his chest and down his side, tracing the landscape of his musculature. Though her touches were gentle, each of them sent blazing heat into his core, as if he were being pierced in the gut again and again with a bo-rifle. He’d felt it before: off and on during the wedding ceremony, during the feast afterward, during the drive out to Moonflower Springs—and all right, _fine,_ pretty much every time this incomparable woman had ever given him the slightest touch, but now, _now…_ He shifted a little.  
  
“Er… whatcha doin’, darlin’...?”  
  
“Just admiring my exquisite warrior. If he doesn’t mind, of course.”  
  
“ _Yeah!_ I mean _no!_ I mean… of course I don’t mind…” Zeb drew his bride closer, his hand moving on her too.  
  
“Good. Because I was just going to say”—here she slipped a finger inside the waistband of his shorts—“that those standard-issue microgarments of yours don’t need to stay on, either.”  
  
“Aw, _you’re_ teasin’ _me,_ now…”  
  
“Not in the least, my mighty bristlecone…” Shulma’s lips brushed his cheek-stripes as her hand crept lower onto his thigh. “My Garazeb…”  
  
What was it about the way she called him that, about the way she said his name? “Right...” It was less a word than a low, chuckling growl as Zeb pulled her down onto the satyn sheets and into the most passionate embrace they had ever shared, the most passionate kiss they had ever kissed. The robe slipped off her shoulders, once again revealing the baggy, silly nightshirt. Not that she now seemed to mind. Neither did he. How could he, now that she was melting and blooming and yielding in his arms as his bride, her spicy-sweet scent flowing over him? _Aw karabast, does it_ matter _what she’s wearin? What_ I’m _wearin’?_  
  
“Heh, right,” he grunted again as his lips parted from hers. One strong hand guided her hand downward, the other peeled her nightshirt upward. “Fine by me.”

* * *

Her lovely stripes really did go all the way down.  
  
Wreathing around the tender, shapely breasts that had so often pressed against him, swirling down the graceful sides he had so often held close, wisping and dancing all... over... her...  
  
“Karabast, you’re so beautiful,” was all he could say as he began to kiss them one by one. And he intended to kiss them all before the night was out.

* * *

He truly was a most exquisite warrior.  
  
His magnificent figure loomed over her like a mountain, like an ancient rock formation with its finely chiseled crags and vivid striations. He was like _the_ Warrior in the days when it had towered over Lira Zel like a protector and lover.  
  
That Warrior had fallen, but hers would not. Stalwart and fragrant, he was a bristlecone amid the shrubs of the timberline. He would stand tall through storm, wind, and disaster, and she would lie down in his shade and _feel safe at night._  
  
She drew him down to her, saying what she had said on the day he had plighted his troth to her beneath those rocky ruins: “I am yours, last warrior of Lasan!”

* * *

And there, twined in union in each other’s scents and stripes, they both felt much more than _safe that night._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yhazi: OC, Shulma’s mischievous friend and fellow shaman who appears in [Calm after the Storm](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15844134) and [Light of Lasan](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20930813/chapters/49760483). She is also mentioned a few times in a long story in the form of Shulma's journal that I haven't posted here yet.  
>   
> “That Warrior had fallen” and “on the day he had plighted his troth to her beneath those rocky ruins”: references to the events of [Romance among the Stones](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19965346). The rock formation called the Warrior was created by Raissa Baiard and first appeared in [The Beginning of Honor](https://boards.theforce.net/threads/the-beginning-of-honor-rebels-zeb-backstory-complete-author-responses-12-29-17.50045958/).


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh Zeblove! You’re...”

“Inside ya?”

“...yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was originally just a one-shot, but Raissa_Baiard suggested I try my hand at writing an “afterglow” scene as well, so here one is.

Zeb woke up first, which surprised him.  
  
Early morning sunlight was filtering shyly into the Moonflower Springs bridal suite as he yawned, stretched, and shifted onto his side—carefully, because Shulma was still nestled against him, fast asleep.  
  
_Shulma!_ Yes, that incomparable woman—his incomparable bride—really _finally_ was lying beside him, as naked as he was, her breath softly rising and falling. Her long, dark hair lay loose all around her, some of it partly covering her face, some of it sticking to her (and to him) in sweaty little tendrils, forming new, wispy, asymmetrical stripes on her back. Red panties (her favorite color) lay on the floor in a heap with his own light-gray, standard-issue Honor Guard microgarments. Not far off was that silly nightshirt her friend had given her, that she had been so embarrassed about: FEEL SAFE AT NIGHT SLEEP WITH AN HONOR GUARD. Zeb couldn’t help but chuckle remembering it.  
  
And _that scent of hers_ still lingered. In her fur, her hair, the sheets, everywhere.  
  
Karabast, that scent… Zeb leaned closer, nuzzling and inhaling. Each deep draught of her sweet musk filled him with the feelings of the beautiful night before, _their_ beautiful night before. The feel of her, the smell of her, her breath, so close to him, clinging to him, surrounding him, moving with him… even the sweet, er _awkwardness_ there had been at first, even the _sparks_ that had flown—well, she was his lovely storm-dreaming shaman, after all! But, oh karabast and karabast again, that feeling of _her_ … like nothing else, like never before...  
  
All his own want came rushing back, hitting him head-on like an HG-AT-R at full tilt. He planted a kiss in her hair, on her ear, on the stripes of her jawline, on her neck. (That hair! Those ears! Those stripes! And oh, that neck…)  
  
“Mmmrrr…”  
  
She shifted but did not waken. Zeb paused. _All right, mustn’t get too far ahead o’ myself. She needs her rest after last night, heh heh! Er… maybe this’d be a good time for me to go clean up a bit..._  
  
He was about to hoist himself up when she shifted again, more heavily this time and onto her back. She stretched her arms. Her emerald eyes flickered open—  
  
—then _sparked_ into full awakening. “Zeblove...!”  
  
“Heh heh, easy there with the Sacred Light, darlin’!” Zeb chuckled, pulling back.  
  
“Oh dearest, I’m so sorry… you know how it is with me… it’s just so _new,_ seeing you here… like this…”  
  
“Yeah, I know… er, same… But darlin’...” He edged closer, nestling up against her and encircling her with an arm. “We’re husband an’ wife now, an’ together here, an’... aw, Shulma… darlin’...”  
  
Zeb paused several moments, just enjoying feeling her against him. Again he nuzzled her hair. Then his eyes happened to fall on the nightshirt lying on the floor on the other side of the room—FEEL SAFE AT NIGHT SLEEP WITH AN HONOR GUARD—and he added, “You’re safe here, y’know.”  
  
“Well, I did just sleep with an Honor Guard.” Shulma craned her graceful neck-stripes up toward him, smiling one of those smiles of hers that outshone the mountain sunrise. Her lips brushed his fringe. In response his hand slid down her side in a strong caress.  
  
“An’ as an Honor Guard it’s my duty t’make sure you stay safe _all night long…_ ”  
  
“Oh, then you had best not shirk that duty, my mighty bristlecone… my Garazeb…”  
  
She melted into the musky strength of his embrace, and scents and stripes twined once again.


End file.
